Twisting To Break
by KeeNee
Summary: Things change, and the arising situation of placing destinies is a bit too much for teenage girls. And having made up their minds, the boys won't wait. [Rrb/Ppg][Greens/Blues, Reds]
1. Pretend To Be

**✨Hello! Just so you know, this fic has dark themes and is not for sensitive viewers...BUT! That really only applies to certain characters because of certain things and... Well heed the rating please✨**

**_Disclaimer- I'm not in any way affiliated with the Powerpuff Girls. _I only reep the rewards of your reviews, please**** leave**** one...**

* * *

Chapter 1: Pretend To Be

Laying in a bath tub, a general force to be reckoned with, Him twirled the bubbles beneath him with one claw, and, with hazy concentration, focused on keeping the crystal ball before him afloat in midair.

It was quite the dismal life. He hated it.

He was sent here, to this hole, a few centuries ago. But, decided to have fun with the place instead of just getting the job done and destroying the it.

That was his first mistake. His first and most regretted mistake. He, instead built upon the place, then watched it crumble. For Townsville was never meant to survive, and that's what made it fun.

It was a game he hasn't tired of. As soon as it became populated, he made sure no one would leave. As soon as the dreaded hope in the people arose again, he would put that light out and fill the atmosphere with his terrifying aura.

He'd become lazy, though - messy with his work. He made an island full of monsters. Making sure his creations would take frequent visits to Townsville.

Their Mayor, an honest twit, would rebuild the city. Making his obsession with watching things collapse grow insanely.

When the monkey came he nearly died of choking on his own laughter. That whole episode filled him with maniacal pleasure. And then the 'Powerpuff Girls' defeated him.

That very group of three contributed to his disdain. They were his second mistake. Letting them live had proven a neusense ever since.

Then, came his beloved 'sons'. They'd sparked _hope_ in Him.

He scowled at the pearlescent orb, lazily caught between falling and flying. The swirling mist inside it cleared, revealing one of his creations. Presumably close to the outskirts of what was usually a happy Townsville.

Those boys had given him an emotion, and had it swiped from him in a second. They were the reason for his ever-foul mood. For turning his hopes into that of longing.

The boy in the orb stopped adruptly from his flight. Him smirked.

Somewhere far from the tiny dimension in which Him resided; Boomer shrieked in pain and terror.

* * *

Cool air lightly tickled Blossom's exposed skin (it had been just above warm temperature in the morning and she hadn't anticipated staying late after school, only to tiredly fly home at four o'clock, when it was already quite dark). Her skirt ruffled along with the breeze, her hands were both profusely rubbing the opposite arm in an attempt to rid them of goose bumps.

It was early autumn, the wind was slowly beginning to howl, giving the whole city an eerie feeling when it was darker. Earlier on, Blossom had been convinced that she heard screams for help, but on arriving to where she thought the noises were coming from and finding nothing, she decided her imagination was getting the best of her.

Now, being in the less than safe part of town, the feeling that someone was going to grab her heightened to impossible feats. She did rationalise that she was flying and the possibility of anyone – or anything – grabbing her was slim, and that she could fight back. But, still, she'd rather it didn't happen. She was actually scared it would.

It was almost as if an invisible hand rested on her shoulder, it was all that represented fear: a dirty, scabby hand, with long and unkempt yellow nails that were slightly chipped at the ends, and it pressed her down with the sole purpose of having her dead.

In a clumsy effort to rid herself of the nightmare, she flew higher, gaining speed. A building that looked shorter just a minute ago had grown a few hundred meters, Blossom tried to fly over it, but her foot caught at the edge of its roof and her head collided with the pavement, her feet flew over her body and she tumbled across the wide-stretched, flat paving of the roof. The other end of the building came too quickly for Blossom to attempt to gain balance again.

The feeling of the world devouring itself around her made Blossom's stomach land in her throat. Breathing became more difficult, death's horrible grip still firm on her shoulder, Blossom let out a silent cry before the ground came, hard.

Blossom grunted when her back made contact with the hard cement.

She stayed still for a moment, waiting for her body to heal so she could go home. Her shock and confusion didn't dissipate as fast as usual. She was scared of whatever was at the end of her fall this time. When she thought she could handle it, she pushed herself up, pain striking her head and neck, and bile threatening the back of her throat.

She groaned as the effects of her calamity hit her fully. She felt something slimy run down the side of her face.

Everything looked funny, too. Hazy, as if there were a black cloud surrounding her. It slowly dissolved into what was actually in front her; a dark alley, with mouldy brick walls and an indefinable stench.

This was not ideal way to get home after being at school for more than she liked.

Contrary to popular belief; Blossom didn't like school very much. She enjoyed learning, and respected the teachers to the extent she was taught to, but she was a teenager, and human - even though the latter was questionable.

Another groan echoed in the alley and it made Blossom's blood run cold, because it wasn't her own. Eradicated breathing followed, again, from someone or something else.

The breathing had decreased so fast that Blossom's wide, frightened eyes frantically searched for the person who made the sound and her gaze dropped to a figure not two feet away. Its lumpy form was still and looked very lifeless.

Blossom crawled urgently to it's side and flipped it around. It was a person, presumably male, considering the muscular chest that Blossom could see from his sweat drenched T-shirt. His face was a pale and sickly grey, his lips were blue.

It very much looked like he wasn't breathing. Blossom gulped, begging for the person to still be alive. He was lying on his back now, she pressed two fingers to his neck.

The slow rhythm of his pulse beat against her touch and she let out a shaky sigh. Blossom rested her hand on his grey shirt, which was sticking to him like a second skin. There was no sign of any injury on his body. No blood stained his clothes, nothing Blossom could immediately see.

This part of town needed help, badly, from the looks of things…

He looked asleep. Not peaceful, but sort of dead, and the only thing that made him seem alive was that Blossom knew he wasn't dead.

She thought it was sad, really. Hearing creepy screams for help in the evening was frightening, but it was disheartening to see what lingered behind the thick fog of Townsville's slums.

Had she been so blind? So much of this city needed help.

It took a strangled cry from the person that lay before her now to notice. Quite frankly she was a little pissed that what she did wasn't enough for her quaint little city. She couldn't really blame Mr. Mayor either, the damage that needed repairing after a random monster attack or something should've made their economy look like this part of town.

It didn't help that they were only a few kilometres away from an island full of 'I Will Bring Terror' junky monsters.

The boy's breath hitched every now and then. She only stared blankly at him.

Blossom wondered what he'd make of his life.

He was quite handsome, from the features she could see. Everything else was covered in matted, blonde hair. He looked familiar once she'd stared at him a good long moment. The darkness that hugged them both made it difficult to see. That, and his hair.

She didn't think of her actions thereafter, it didn't really matter. She could barely see straight and her head felt like it might split in two.

So, Blossom brushed the shaggy tresses out of his eyes.

Her heart felt like it'd stopped, then started again at an unnaturally fast pace. She shut her eyes tightly, hoping that her paranoid imagination was going wild again, her heart raced too fast as fear caught in her throat, practically strangling her. So she hadn't imagined any screaming, but how could Boomer – with all his super powers – not have been able to help himself?

Boomer's eyes were still closed, Blossom began to shake again. What was this? Had the Rowdyruff's spotted her and thought of an elaborate way to ambush her? If this was some trap, how would she defend herself against three super-powered boys without the help of her sisters?

'_Can't be a trap,' _Blossom calmed herself._ 'If it were, they would've caught me by now...'_

Her eyes darted around. She saw and heard nothing. The only thing that broke the silence was a violent blow of the wind.

Boomer genuinely needed help.

Blossom looked down at the 'Ruff, she put a shaky hand to his forehead and gasped at how cold it was. She clicked her fingers over his face twice. It was obvious Boomer was truly out-cold and wasn't going to wake up any time soon.

Taking him to a hospital was the only solution Blossom had for this, suddenly in a rush to help and then leave. Her hair was wind whipped and messy, even in her high ponytail, her sisters would wonder... she steadied her gaze back on her enemy.

Yes, she would take him to the hospital. She would leave him there and... What about his brothers? They should know their brother is ill. Probably mentally unstable.

But, she couldn't picture Brick or Butch casually asking a doctor if Boomer would make it. She couldn't imagine them anywhere but prison, or with havoc and fire burning brightly as their background.

She jumped a mile high when her ringtone erupted from the solitude of the alleyway, and then hastily took her phone out of her pocket.

"Hello?" She said, still a bit stunned, but she easily brushed it off once the sound of her sister's voice came through.

"Hello, Blossom, where are you? Professor's starting to worry, and it's driving me and Bubbles crazy, he can't seem to get that you're a fucking superhero." Buttercup's already-low-tolerance for certain things had vanished when puberty took course, and Blossom gave a half-hearted "Ha," when she heard her sister's irritation.

"Yeah, I'll be home in a minute-" Blossom's gaze drifted to Boomer, she gulped. "More than a minute, actually, I think I heard something,"

"What? Should we hel-?"

"N-no!" Blossom quickly cut her off, then pausing. "It's fine, it's really cold out here, and it would just be a worthless bother."

"Well, okay. Be careful, see ya." Buttercup still sounded a little unsure of it, but Blossom doubted that her sisters would leave the comfort of home to search for a nameless face, or find that there is no nameless face at all.

Blossom stuffed her phone back in her pocket. She didn't really know why she had to lie. She found no reason to tell her sisters certain things, but more than enough reason to cover it up with some half-thought fib. Perhaps the embarrassment of tripping over a roof and plummeting without landing on her feet would be too much to take from her sisters. Hearing about how silly she was really isn't something that Blossom wanted to experience – never mind endure– again.

It wasn't that big of a deal, anyway.

Blossom bent down next to Boomer again, fixing one arm securely under his neck, and the other beneath his knees.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" Blossom jumped a mile high, letting go of Boomer's unconscious body. She spun around to see who spoke and nearly had a heart attack – for the hundredth time. Her mind tracing back to the word 'ambush' as she stared at Brick.

Well great, just fantastic. Now they could have a tea party, possibly discuss their days with one another, maybe later Brick would even offer to carry Boomer to the bloody hospital.

_Joy_.

Her eyes focused on his red ones. He looked angry and astonished at the same time. Blossom's surprise at his presence made her falter slightly, before she narrowed her eyes determinedly.

"I'm helping your brother, who could've been dead," she announced.

"No one needs you're help, leave," Brick practically growled.

Leave? And where was he all this time? She was helping and he had the audacity to command her to leave.

Blossom faked calm; the voice of reason she tried to be. "What are you going to do? Take him to your filthy apartment and leave him? He obviously needs medical attention, Brick, and I -"

"This has nothing to do with you!" Brick barked back, making Blossom put a hand on her hip.

"It's my responsibility to protect the citizens of this town," she was still calm, ntingly so. "And I swear to God, Brick, if you don't allow me to do my duty, I'll force you to get out of my way."

"Don't get into situations that you'll never understand, Blossom. Or I'll have to force you leave my fucking brother alone."

Blossom glared at Brick, but her gaze softened slightly when she saw that he was looking to the shadow on the ground behind her. Of course he cared about his brother... Blossom had reduced her counterparts to people who didn't care for anything. Not even each other.

"What won't I understand?" Blossom asked, as it was her responsibility to care. She was tired and just wanted to go home. And she hated the way he spat her name.

"None of your goddamn business," Brick looked at her with such malice that Blossom almost dropped her gaze. She didn't want to give him a speech on how it was her business to protect the city again, and it truly wasn't any of her concern to know the 'why' part. So she promised herself that the next day she would just check on Boomer.

In case he needed to go to the hospital.

"Leave, now, before I make you. I'm not in the fucking mood to play today,"

His last sentence made Blossom's stomach knot. The nerve of this boy! Play?!

"Play?" Blossom bit out angrily. "You think my sisters and I come out and endanger our lives because you and your brothers decided to cause mayhem -because it's a game? Do you think we like-?"

"Calm the fuck down." Brick interrupted, looking at her as if she were mad, and treating her like the part, making Blossom grit her teeth.

Ugh! He was an arrogant, stupid, brat! And Blossom had spent five minutes with him before wanting to rip his face off and tramp it.

"Just shut up, you talk too much." He stated this as if Blossom's rage wasn't evident, and burning in her eyes. Blossom was so sure that she might actually knock him out. She clenched her jaw, and balled her hands into fists trying to refrain from causing unwanted harm.

"I am taking him to a hospital." Blossom pointed at Boomer behind her. "And you won't stop me if you care for your brother's well-being."

"You are going to go home before you miss your curfew, like a good little girl," Brick replied. "And I will take care of _my_ _brother,"_

Someone suddenly grabbed Blossom's hands and held them behind her back. She struggled, but the head-splitting strike of Brick's sneakered foot on her temple stopped her.

The hard contact of another head bashed against her own skull, strengthening the already mind-numbing pain in her head, making her knees buckle, and the world disappear when the agony enveloped her body, and her captor had let go of her, making her fall to the ground on her head for second time, causing a faint blur and then complete darkness.

Brick looked at Blossom's body, then to Butch who was standing behind her, frowning back. He was still neutral, and over his previous anger.

The only reason he was angry was because Boomer was missing the whole day and a certain red, claw-handed thing had told him where to find him. Probably because it was his fault. On top of that, he finds Boomer with a 'guardian' of the city kneeling beside him.

"Watcha think happened to him?" Butch asked, concentrating on Boomer.

"Him," Brick guessed, based on the story that they got from the blonde the last time, and the time before that, and the time before that.

"And what do we do with her?" Butch nodded to Blossom, now sprawled across the floor.

"We hope your skull was thick enough to make her forget this ever happened, and leave her. I don't think we'll need to clean her forehead. It was already bleeding when I found her." Brick said. "You'll carry Boomer."

Butch prepared to do as told.

"I can't wait 'til this doesn't happen anymore and we leave this fucked up hell-hole."

Brick shot a glare at Butch, telling him to shut up. But Butch carried on, just with a different topic.

"Fuck, Boomer has gained weight." Butch pouted at Blossom. Brick rolled his eyes, Boomer had done the exact opposite, resembling a stick. "Don't you think her waking up in an alley tomorrow will help her remember?"

"You don't feel like hauling Boomer's ass home this time? Like I do all the time..."

Butch gave a theatrical sigh. "At the risk of her remembering anything, I think I should take her home…"

Brick raised an eyebrow. It would be the better option to let her wake up in her room, and assume she made it home perfectly safe.

"Fine," He said.

The hint was clear - and dodgy. But if that's what Butch wanted, someone less drawn to the enemy's feminine whiles should do the job. Brick started towards Blossom "I'll take her home."

It wasn't meant to be noble – that would be fucking ridiculous – but it seemed so heroic to volunteer to take her home. And he had to remind himself that he was doing this to annoy his brother, not to be Blossom's superman.

Butch muttered under his breath and flew away.

Blossom was slightly heavier than Boomer, Brick had trouble flying with her in his arms that had nothing to with her weight, though.

It did make him uncomfortable to know he was carrying his sworn enemy in his arms so...intimately. It didn't help that he was a pubescent teenage boy, and she was a well-endowed female.

He made looking at her face minimal, and took comfort in pretending she wasn't even there, or ignoring the blood slowly oozing from her head, even if it might stain his favourite shirt.

He didn't hate her too much to just drop her (he didn't hate her, actually, he preferred to stay as emotionally unattached to the reasons of his existence) the thought was recurring, though. It was just that he'd rather not have her sisters anywhere near him in such times. He didn't need them pestering him on their leader.

He might never tell Butch out loud, but he was relieved to be leaving this town, too. The atmosphere, the weird shit that happened here – the weird shit that got him created in the first place. That asshole crab-demon-thing. And, mostly: the person in his arms.

* * *

Buttercup waited for Blossom to get home. When that didn't happen, she safely assumed that Blossom was just out late in some library after hearing that 'sound'. Professor had called it a night, and Bubbles was sick.

Finally.

Blossom obviously wouldn't approve of what she was about to do, Bubbles couldn't keep it a secret, the Professor had become over-protective - her family had turned into a nightmare.

She kept looking over her shoulder as if someone was there. Fucking paranoia.

Part of her edginess was that she knew what she was doing could be considered wrong depending on the way you looked at it. But the part that made her shake when opening the window was that it had been so long since her last visit, which ended on a bad note. At least to her it was a bad note.

Over a couple of weeks, could he have gotten a girlfriend?

Or just some new bitch that he could screw when he liked?

Blossom hadn't lied about it being cold. Wind slapped Buttercup's face and tugged at her hair, making it messier. She shivered, but she still loved the way the air rushed around her when she flew, even if it made her ass freeze off

The dump was the same, the stench hadn't left. Buttercup sighed, then walked the rest of the way toward the door and knocked.

Snake opened the door and Buttercup frowned at him. He hissed about her arrival to everyone in the house, Ace was there in less than five seconds. His hair gelled back and an arrogant grin plastered to face, it made Buttercup want to hit him when he smirked in that painfully distracting way.

"Hey, where've ya been Butters?" asked Ace.

"Yeah, we's bin expectin' ya." Snake hissed out.

It felt like a punch in the gut when Ace talked like nothing happened. She wondered if he'd act like this if she died. Would he cry, scream, spare her corpse a scowl?

Buttercup knew that maybe she was overreacting. But she really liked Ace; green undertones and everything. He was just a rebellious teenager, much like herself. He was also dim, and probably didn't know what he'd wrong in the first place.

She looked from Snake to Ace and her gaze lingered.

"Well," Buttercup's lips slid into a comfortable smirk. "Nice to know you guys are decent enough to pretend you care, but I already know you for the douche's you are."

She pushed passed them, welcomed by the hollered greetings that flew towards her the by the rest of the gang.

It felt so much warmer inside.

* * *

Her reflection resembled a mummy. Bubbles honestly thought that her sister looked like a mummy.

She'd been watching Blossom from a safe distance away through a crack in the door. It was odd that Blossom had left her bedroom door open – even slightly – and now she was staring at her own reflection for a solid ten minutes.

At least, it had been ten minutes since Bubbles had arrived and peeked through to see what was going on. On Saturdays Blossom would make the most delicious breakfast ever. And since Bubbles was sick, she was expecting to get something in her room.

Alas, her breakfast never showed, so she pulled her gown on and decided to check on Blossom before going to make some herself. She didn't need to be babied, anyway.

But it was so unlike Blossom to try…

She picked a tissue out of her gowns pocket and wiped her ever-runny nose, deciding to get to the bottom of this. She crumpled the tissue in her hand then walked in Blossom's room.

She normally would've knocked, but Blossom didn't look like she would acknowledge that.

After throwing the tissue in the bin, she dug for another, making her way to Blossom.

"Bloss… what's…?" Bubble stalled by wiping at her nose again. Beginning to worry when Blossom began to stare at her.

"Are you okay? Well… you're not… what's the matter?" Bubbles was finally behind her sister at her dresser.

She took a brush and was about to tug at a strand of hair when she realized it. The dried blood that coated Blossoms forehead.

Suddenly extremely worried, she sneezed and her eyes widened. Bubble's spluttered momentarily. Did she bump her head a bit too hard?

Was her memory intact? Did Blossom even know her name?!

"Blossom what-," She began.

"I don't know, Bubbles." Blossom's voice was meek.

This answer wasn't satisfying. Well, at least she knew her name, but the blood…?

Bubbles opened her mouth, closed it, and sighed.

"Bubbles I'm fine, stop looking at me like I might drop dead, I won't, I promise. You're sick. Go back to bed. I'll bring you some orange juice and meds. I just need to get cleaned up." Blossom sounded really stern and it was almost enough to make Bubbles want to comply.

"Are you sure? I mean -,"

"I'm fine Bubbles." Blossom suddenly stood up and shooed Bubbles away.

Bubbles was protesting, but walking out of the room anyway.

The red head shut the door after Bubbles.

* * *

"You know what? Coffee is really overrated."

Brick turned his head slightly to face Butch. The idiot was making a face; a cross between sheepish and matter-of-factly. His gaze drifted lower, to the counter, where pieces of glass and a dark substance was spilled.

"Whatever. I like instant better, anyway." He turned away.

They were living in a downtrodden apartment that they didn't pay for. Brick assumed that because of the frequent destruction the city took, that if people couldn't afford to pay for a place to stay, it was free. Maybe that was just a brief outline, he didn't know the specifics.

The landlord was petrified of them, too. Either way, he didn't care as long as he wasn't living in a volcano.

Boomer wasn't up yet, and he was worried.

Not to mention, he knew nothing of what Blossom remembered. She should have at least have suffered a concussion if Butch didn't put her in a coma. The injury to her head was bleeding a lot when he – literally – dropped her off in her room.

Butch had murdered their coffee maker. So he couldn't even have the comfort of warm caffeine in his system.

They had no TV, and to top it all off; he was just about to finish the last book he stole from a library. He tried to get a library card once, he didn't want to stoop to a new level of pathetic by stealing books, but they denied him when he didn't have any form of ID.

They really left him no choice.

Brick bitterly thought about how they had looked at him. Like they couldn't believe he could read. So what, he was a villain, not a buffoon. That, and Mojo refused to have 'illiterate hooligans' as 'sons'. Him agreed, and they wouldn't have done it if they weren't shit scared of Him.

There was a knock on the door.

Both Brick and Butch stared at the door like it had just grown a foot. Who the –

Another knock. But this one sounded more like a tap.

Then another.

Butch began walking toward it. Cautiously. Extremely slowly. He began tip-toeing –

Oh for the love of…

Brick flew – very fast – and landed in front of the door. He opened it and almost gasped when the thick, dark, red hair of Blossom Utonium met his gaze, accompanied by pretty pink eyes with long lashes.

He stared at her for a second, and then shut the door and began striding towards his room.

He didn't show it on his face, but he was bewildered. Very bewildered. She went to such lengths to get answers, ones she should know he wouldn't give under any circumstance. She came to where he and his brothers lived – how did she even know where he and his brothers lived? – and she knocked on their door, it was so polite. Since when do heroes knock on villain's doors, anyway?

The fact that she was even there meant she knew something but didn't remember all of what happened. He didn't expect that she'd go about it in such a civil way. If anything he would've expected her to burst through their window demanding to know about everything.

So then he should've been prepared when he heard a crashing noise, and turned around to find the door broken down and the heroen standing with a her foot raised where she kicked it.

Blossom's lips curved down and they were the only part of her face that gave away her anger. Her eyes were safely devoid of emotion. She let her foot down and walked inside.

"I woke up this morning with blood on my head, and no memory of how I got it." She sounded…worried? "I'm going to ask once. What happened last night?"

"No." Brick stated simply.

Blossom only visibly swallowed. Maybe, because she was a hero, she'd keep true to her word and only ask once.

But given her current state of mind (which Brick presumed was psycho), he should've seen her first punch come. It landed square on his chin, and wasn't hard enough to knock him out or send him flying. Instead, Brick stumbled back and tripped over the sofa, rolling to the floor with a thud.

When he got up he might have killed Blossom. But when he got up Boomer was standing in the narrow hall that lead to the boy's rooms. He looked pale as a ghost and dark circles surrounded his eyes.

"Dammit, Boomer-"

"What's she doing here?" Boomer was staring intently and wide-eyed at Blossom.

He suddenly started vigorously shaking his head and trailing backwards until his head hit the wall. Butch, Blossom, and Brick watched him collapse to the ground, wracking.

Blossom, taken aback and confused, spoke first. "What-,"

"Shut up-," Butch hissed at her, but Brick's panicked voice took over.

"Boomer - Boomer! What-?" He was crouching next to Boomer, Butch following suit and barking questions at their brother after flying to his side.

Blossom was tranfixed as she watched them fuss.

Finally Boomer looked up, his face as well with the aftermath of his sobbing. When he spoke it was raspy and hardly audible.

"She was there this time..." His voice hitched and died out. Boomer took a a deep breath. "Him... He was... She was there this time."

It was quite a horror, to see Butch's threatening gaze, and Brick looked torn between wanting glaring at her and trying to comfort Boomer, while the blonde in the middle looked at her as if she would bring the apocalypse.

But Blossom stayed rooted to where she was."What's-,"

"What the the hell did she do?" Butch was asking Brick.

"I don't know -" Brick gulped down his anger. "why she's involved. Him has to know something."

This made Boomer stare him with alarm.

"Why were you there?"

This made Blossom snap out of her reverie too soon, and she gave Brick a confused look. Brick said nothing. He refused to repeat himself for her.

"It was purely coincidental that I found him." Blossom explained flatly when she found her words.

This was the wrong thing to say, because they all looked so deeply worried.

Brick stood up eventually, after a long moment of silence.

"What... What do you remember, exactly?"

Blossom frowned at this, she didn't know what he was getting at. So, she asked again; "What's going on?"

"This is useless, she won't understand-,"

"Shut up, Butch! I fucking know, but what the fuck else should we do?" Brick seethed, jaw clenched once more.

"Him wants her involved..." Boomer was still seated on the floor, voice cracked and weak.

"Probably her sisters too," Brick folded his arms.

They heard the loud clatter of breaking bricks and turned to their wall, getting a good view of the bad side of Townsville, a pink blur becoming fainter in the distance.

"Shit." Butch stared at Brick, when he nodded, they flew off after her.

.


	2. Intricate Plots

**✨I have two things to say regarding the characters. **

**One:** I put the pairings in my summary.

**Two: **I will say that I don't think any of them are OOC, considering the circumstances. But please let me know if you think differently. Blossom's become paranoid, but you'll find out all the details on that soon. Please pretend that the episode Buttercup gets a crush on Ace is cut in half, and the latter section didn't happen.

**Lastly:** If it's a bit confusing now, it won't always be.

**Disclaimer: **_I am in no way affiliated with the Powderpuff girls. _This is my last disclaimer.

* * *

.Chapter 2: Intracate Plots

Blossom's cheek pressed against the rough brick, her hands held behind her, again, by Butch.

He thought the chase was fun, for a while, as she gained speed, his heart pounded faster, his grin grew maniacal.

Butch pressed the prey against the wall, adrenaline rush not subsided, and eyes glossed over with sadistic pleasure.

His leader landed behind them, Boomer didn't, he'd been a depressed little shit as of late. Butch cared. He did, perhaps not as fiercely as Brick, but just as genuinely.

He wished Blossom would try to move, he wanted this, he wanted an excuse to hurt her.

"Look, 'Puff, we don't like this," Brick began, Butch's teeth flashed. "You wanted answers -,"

"My sister's - mmph-!" Butch's left hand squeezed Blossom's hair while pushing her face into the wall.

"We can't have anyone involved." Brick carried on. "So, for our safety, we would need to get rid of you."

Blossom's screams were muffled and lost.

Butch's veins blazed. But the firm word of his leader had not given him free reign to lose control yet.

It was taking quite a bit not to rip her head off of her shoulders, but he refrained. And that little thread of reality he held on to made it all the more maddening for him to keep calm.

He didn't agree with Brick. He wasn't a strategist, but he wasn't too utterly stupid so as not to be able to think for himself, and he still had opinions. But Brick's word was law, and he would always follow through.

And not just his _urges_ were saying that they should kill this girl.

"But we wouldn't be here if that were so easy." Butch could hear the irritation hidden behind the calm notes of his brothers voice. "So, here's what's gonna happen"

Brick's footsteps were almost too soft to hear, he stopped next to them, a foot away.

"You're going to tell us what happened, cooperate and we won't kill you."

"You're really going to tell her?" Butch spoke through clenched teeth, and focused on his brother, hoping that his disapproval was made clear.

Brick took note of it, but didn't act that way, Butch could only see because he had a skill, it was somewhat empathic, but not really; one of Him's gifts.

Brick's crimson eyes were ablaze, but his face expressionless.

"I don't think it's going to be a problem," He said. "What Him wants is worth nothing to us."

Or, at least it shouldn't be.

And Butch scoffed at the outright lie, making Brick glare at him. The superheroine squirmed quite a bit. He glared back at Brick. He wondered if the leader knew how much trouble he was causing by doing this.

* * *

Buttercup rushed out of the junk yard, almost tripping when she took flight.

It was still early morning, if Professor was up, then she'd tell him she was at Mitch's. She'd still probably be grounded, but at least Mitch would cover for her.

_Fuck. _Buttercup mentally cursed.

She just had to go fall asleep on a moth-eaten couch (that was actually more comfortable than most would think). She was frazzled, and tired and terribly confused.

_"Hey Butters, you had your first kiss yet?_"

Halfway through the city there was a spec on a building, it was small, something only someone with _her_ vision could see

Buttercup concentrated on the spec, in a vain effort to rid herself the thoughts of an upcoming punishment.

The spec got bigger. And, as Buttercup focused, she realized the spec was a person.

It was unusual, so bizarre that Buttercup slowed down, her hair falling over her face.

The spec was replaced with a boy - no, a _creation_, much like herself. Boomer was standing, only standing, and giving the impression that he was lost. It was unnerving.

She growled to herself, forcing herself to slow down enough to land - as it was her duty, something Blossom constantly reminded her of. Something which she also often forgot.

She landed a few feet away from the blonde, and crossed her arms. She just wanted to go home, and RIF herself of the crick in her neck.

He turned to her, almost making her blanch, but instead she just frowned. He looked horrible, like a ghost, almost. The way his head rolled to face her was _inhuman. _His face was pale - exceptionally so. Too pale, with undertones of a sickly green. His calm features weren't gaunt, just stoney, vaguely handsome.

She hadn't faced a Rowdyruff in a while (two years, perhaps) she wasn't too bothered by the fact, she hadn't cared - despite this, it was strange. She was never, ever, faced with a Rowdyruff that she wasn't punching the next second. That wasn't punching her in the next second.

Of course, Butch's carnage didn't allow her to just stop and look. And on the rare occasion she fought with Brick, it wasn't too civil either.

But, now Boomer was in front of her. And there was silence. But that was not strange. She'd never thought of Boomer as the violent type, or just not as violent as his brothers. But _she_ didn't initiate the battle, and that shook her._  
_

Perhaps she was getting too cozy with ex-villains?

"What the hell are you doing?" She barked, curious of his condition, but his pressense bombarded her with an essance far too foreign for comfort.

He barely blinked at her, so she moved closer. His lack of answer was vexing. He was a villian, or used to be one, but still an extremely weak one at that.

Or so she suspected. Either way, she could turn him into mush and he didn't treat her like she could.

With each step Boomer looked worse. It was as though he hadn't gotten a proper nights sleep in months. As if he was barely standing. And he only stared at her.

A good two feet away, she stopped and narrowed her eyes at him.

The dried tear stains that marred his smooth, slightly grey cheeks were taunting.

He wasn't doing anything. Why the fuck wasn't he doing anything?

Boomer only looked at her, somewhat questioning.

She saw how _broken _he was. It, in turn, broke her. She didn't care for him. Not in the least. He just...

The daze he was in behind the eternity of his navy eyes reminded her something. A passing thought that invaded her mind every now and then.

It was disturbingly _wonderful_. To see his face, how incomplete he looked. As if she was released from the hideous cackle that Mojo had, and all the typical shit she got from Fuzzy Lumpkins, and faced with the reality of the _other side._

As if doing all the bad things he did left him as empty as it left her while stopping it.

On the other side of good it was the same. They felt something. Undefined and not all together right in the head.

Unable to truly belong.

And his eyes were as empty and unfulfilled as she was after the thrill of battle. Surrounded by a force he couldn't control.

She didn't want to fight crime all her life. She wasn't born for it, but she started living for it. She hated these thoughts.

Boomer was born to kill her... but...he wasn't trying to Perhaps realized his pathetic life was worth nothing.

Perhaps it was worth nothing to him, as hers was to her.

She'd given her life to the city. A city he had once tried to destroy, but had also once despised her.

He was the enemy, and like cold water on a dream she snapped into reality, realizing she closed too much distance between them, just a foot away from Boomer.

She hated that she hesitated and looked at the ground before she picked off, flew away as if he were a disease. Feeling like a coward, and cursing herself for it and being unable to hold his blank gaze.

Her mind molded back into the bitter truth.

It didn't matter if he felt the same.

Her life belonged to the city.

* * *

The clouds still blocked the sun, still low in the sky, and Boomer stared at where Buttercup's spec just disappeared.

The way she had stared at him...

He was well acquainted with pity. Self pity, most of all had become a common feeling.

He knew pity, he understood it.

When Blossom looked at him that morning, with forlorn eyes that she attempted to hide. It was pity in the depths of her pink orbs.

Sometimes when they used to fight, Bubbles would look at him with those same eyes, and he sometimes wondered if those eyes were for him, or the way she felt.

Sometimes his own brothers stared at him with pity, pity that they all shared from being born.

Being born on this city, and hating it with all they had.

The torturing and horrors they'd had to endure behind the sinister rule of their 'father'.

It spawned and bred him, who was weaker than his brothers by far, to be a pitiful creature.

Nothing more than a name people spat.

He didn't like it it at all, he knew what he was, and as his eyes drifted back where the flat roof grounded him, he didn't feel pitied.

Not by _her_. He wouldve been fine with pity, he was used people feeling sorry him.

She most probably wasn't capable of the emotion.

He felt something he felt nothing of from anyone except by his brothers.

_Pretty green eyes, and so many secrets behind them._

He was given this overwhelming sensation from an outisder. He couldn't see Buttercuo as a nemesis.

He flew down to where his brothers and Blossom were, feeling lost and confused.

So fucking lost and so fucking confused because _she_ looked at him, and he felt like she _understood_.

More than anything.

_She doesn't belong. _Boomer though, morbidly. Watching his siblings until his gaze drifted to Blossoms.

_None of them do._ And that made it easier to accept that Buttercup's face stayed in his mind.

It was pathetic, really. He hardly knew her. He was born to murder her.

...But his loneliness would allow anyone in.

* * *

The lovely sunrise cascaded over promptly cut blonde hair, shiny and ending just above her shoulders in an untidy plait.

Bubbles loved sunrises. She had about ninety-nine drawn and painted.

The Professor was up late the previous evening, and was sleeping gloriously late. It was half six in the morning, when her sisters were not, and didn't bother to see if they were up - too afraid to chance waking them in their sleep-ridden states.

Bubbles normally got up this time to watch the sunrise as the sky was glittered with chalky oranges and pinks.

It was calming, Bubbles didn't need to be tranquilIzed, but it was calming all the same.

Bubbles was, in fact, rough around the edges. Somehow managing to keep her innocence, even as a superheroine.

Hastily getting to the roof in only her pajamas and gown.

They'd all long since outgrown their nighties, and their own customized pajamas was now chosen by them.

Bubbles wore long, baggy, grey sweatpants and a white, slightly tight tank top.

Octi safely tucked under right her arm, her right hand already occupied by a box of pencils, and a sketchpad beneath her tight hold in her left.

Bubbles was happy, there was no doubt to her jubilation. Constantly, deliriously, upon cloud nine.

Because that was her happy place.

And in this happy place, she was tainted - less innocent.

She liked her innocence, so she never attempted to rid herself of it, but the fantasy was nice.

Because in the fantasy, all that tainted her still left her innocent, if only a little. And she was stronger, so much stronger. She longed for that.

The rooftop of the house was like a fortress of comfort. The walls carried on where the ceiling had stopped, giving it a crater-like effect.

She situated herself in the middle of her crater and flipped to the last page of her sketchpad.

It wasn't as if she didn't like who she was, she hated that everyone just saw her as the 'cute one'.

Then flipped again to a clean page and started her hundredth sunrise across the Townsville landscape.

Or at least she would've, if her stomach hadn't growled at that exact moment.

* * *

Blossom was drifting homeward, her gaze on another planet.

_"Him is connected to us." _He said. _"Ever since remaking us. And he uses that to_ hurt _us_."

She didn't know what to expect, making her antsy.

This whole ordeal made her mind disconnect from Earth. She didn't understand what he meant, she questioned the amount which she cared, and came up blank.

She didn't know why, but all that the boys had told her didn't sum up to what happened the previous night.

That didn't sound like her.

Was she going crazy?

She remembered an uncomfortable aura surrounding her, making her fear, but the next moment she WS on the ground. Nothing in-between. Just random fear.

Fear of what? She had no clue. She never truly feared anything. She was happy, and courageous.

What she did know, was that she was now a part of the plan.

A plan that helps the boys escape Him's entrapment. Not thoroughly involved, but she didn't mind if they stayed or left. So long as the city was safe, and her family was safe.

And just like the previous night; she had absolutely no desire to tell her sisters.

She doubted she would.

* * *

Seperated from him brothers now, Butch felt unfulfilled.

He was left so utterly and completely unsated, he growled a string of curses that gave him no release as it did when he was a child, and it mattered that it was wrong.

The intoxication of the power he held over another's life had dulled cconsiderably, but he was still left with the urge.

And that was annoying.

He needed this release, he hadn't felt it since his last fight, ages ago with Buttercup.

Maybe he needed to find her. They'd been avoiding conflict for the sake of their plan - and he wanted it to happen, so he complied.

Brick had said to _'Avoid conflict at all_ costs.'

But he needed to fight. Maybe with Buttercup.

But he hardly felt release, then though. They weren't ever on the brink of death (her sisters, and his brothers made sure of that), and after such a long time he needed to feel like he was dying, it something was dying.

Ironically, it made him feel so alive.

Much more alive than he was ever going to get out of anything else in this fucked up life.

He'd kept it in this far. Why should he throw the effort down the drain? He had tried, very hard, to keep a straight face when ordered to release Blossom. But he complied nonetheless.

Butch's breathing eradicated slightly at the thought of it all. How hard it was to keep calm, because he was born for this, yet his brothers didn't feel as fulfilled.

He was closer to the safer part of town, flying lower than usual, not really caring where he went.

And Bubbles Utonium walked out of a cafe, looking at the height of adolescence and perky as usual. She was humming to herself, a high tune.

Butch would've thought it _pretty_ if the word were in his vocabulary.

It seemed all the sisters were gifted in certain areas. Bubbles' pretty face and thin waist, accompanied by a _nice rack_, very much like her sisters, she was smiling, looking innocent, making Butch's cheek twitch.

Her hips flared quite dramatically, from what that top gave away, and his gaze stayed for a while.

His lip's edges tweeked at the sight of her gait, vaguely wondering why she was in pajamas. Coffee in one hand, throwing a wrapper in the bin, she stood still a moment, sipping from the plastic cup.

Those baggy pants left a lot to the imagination.

And before, he would've hated her sight and wanted to just beat her to a pulp. But now, he most definitely didn't hate the sight of her.

He didn't know _when_ he started enjoying the look of woman.

He didn't know _why_ he felt the way he did.

But Butch couldn't give a solid fuck.

He wouldn't give a thought to his actions, staring openly at an embodied desire.

And his string snapped, and his grip loosened dangerously, and he flew.

* * *

Drinking.

Brick loved it.

He liked getting drunk, perhaps it was because he clasped a glass in his hand, or quite possibly that only slightly tipsy was all the 'drunk' he could ever be, thanks to the chemicals his in system.

He liked that he was always so under control when he was 'tipsy'. He liked that he had control over what he did, no matter what.

At least, that's the way it was in this city.

He'd usually leave Townsville and get himself well introduced at a local bar in Citysville.

"Ah, Brick, where's your brothers?" A particularly skinny whore, that he lost his virginity to, rubbed her breasts on his back.

They split after he let Blossom go.

Boomer was probably getting high with the Gang Green Gang

Butch was fuck-knows-where.

Brick didn't answer, he only smirked.

It seemed no one here cared that they were only seventeen - he and his brothers.

The woman couldn't have been over twenty one, her sultry voice whispered in his ear and her hand reaching out lower down his stomach.

He much preferred this city. For obvious reasons.

"Not now," Brick muttered. "I need to speak to Garth."

"About Chad?" Chad was nine years younger than him, and the son of a very powerful, very rich dealer, that secured their soon-to-be new life in the city.

This prostitute - Shantell? - was one of the perks of his job, now kissing below his ear.

"He's busy," she pressed an experienced thumb over his zip. This annoyed him, but as drunk as the chemicals allowed him to be, he didn't stop her venturing hands, instead he sipped his drink.

"Chanté, let him see the man." Brick looked at the bartender who spoke. He stared back.

This upset her. "He's not here. You're late" no shit.

"Can I use the phone?" Brick pointedly asked the bartender.

* * *

'Frozen' was not the general term used to describe a superheroine when she was attacked (or swooped up, or, hell, even surprised). Bubbles had realized this over the years. If not 'frozen' then just 'unable to move due to shock' - but the former was the lesser of two evils in Bubbles' head.

She was soaring through the air, currently, not of her _own_ will, but in the arms of _someone._

Not so much _in the arms of_ than being pushed by big hands.

She was unable to fully comprehend just what could be happening, or who could possibly do this, and there was barely time to even be anything other than bewildered.

The whirl of the warping world was coloured with green, and Bubbles knew it to be the forest that surrounded half of Townsville.

Flying through the air hardly gave her time to think, and then it happened too quickly.

The whole of her back slammed into a tree, so suddenly, her neck snapped sideways and the world dissolved into an array of colors flashing before her.

And Bubbles could barely gasp, instead choking slightly.

The pain was too great, the ache seeping into her, she was much too sore to move.

But Bubbles was aware.

There was a looming figure above her, behind the colours caused by her pain; there was person, and it made her fall into panic-stricken fear.

She tried to move her fingers, but she realized that she couldn't, for the life of her, she just _couldn't _feel anything. She tried again, thoughts frantically buzzing in her ear.

So instead Bubbles tried her left hand, then her foot, but her body ignored her command. She couldn't blink, she couldn't do anything.

She was barely breathing and her eyes darted around her, colors faded and the figure above her had a face.

And Bubbles wanted to scream, make sound, do absolutely anything - but she was trapped between the tree which did her harm and the recent epitome of her terror.

His arms snaking around her frame and pulling her position into a straighter one. A tear fell down her cheek.

They hadn't seen the Rowdyruff Boys in a few years - why now?

Why like _this_? He lifted her in one fell swoop, and flew her into the tree, impact too hard for a normal human being to survive, but leaving her paralyzed - near death.

So utterly useless to herself

So typical for _Bubbles_, of course. She tried so hard not to cry.

And, furthermore, she stared at the newfound depth of fear that she hadn't recognized before. His dark green eyes were searching her blue ones with terrifying hunger that she did not know of.

And the yearning that glazed his gaze sent another tear down her cheek.

When he smirked she would've widened her eyes, if she could.

* * *

Butch didn't mean to, he didn't - but honest to god, his entire being almost left him.

And now he was a shell, thoughts swarming with the blissful sound of her neck cracking.

He stared at her and realized how he loved the fear in her eyes. 'Scared' suited her well, he would think.

A common place in Citysville, a place he frequented, had taught him about the good life.

Drugs and sex. It was something that any teenage boy with no proper guidance could be influenced to like. Of course, he did whatever the fuck he wanted in that city.

He couldn't get what he wanted at that moment in the city, though. All the sluts that threw themselves at him weren't up to his standards, currently.

This girl was weak, yes, but far from inferior.

What gave him his _high _was how she didn't move, that the scared, wide, doe eyes were scared of him.

Or, more specifically, _what _he could do her.

She was bleeding, an excessive amount of blood pouring from her oddly turned neck, and bone stuck out a little.

Butch's eyes widened. She should be dead.

He'd never actually killed someone before. A squirrel here, and tiny, insignificant animals there. But not humans.

Butch probably wouldn't finish her off. If he did, Blossom would break their deal. He couldn't have that.

And Butch could feel the fear emanating from her very pores. He let go of her.

Butch watched her fall like a lump, then bent down and laid her on the ground.

He leant down until his face was close enough for his nose to touch her cheek.

"What are you going to do?" He was taunting her, she stared straight ahead.

She couldn't do jack shit.

Her would-be trembling body was just like an ordinary persons to him now, near death, and he could do no more if she were to live.

Unsatisfied with her paralyzed state (irritated beyond measure at how he got riled up for nothing), he looked at her in disgust, before getting up.

He chanced a glance her way again.

"Pathetic." spat Butch, thoroughly annoyed with the situation. He realized perhaps death was not all he needed, as it couldn't happen anyway.

He stared for a while, before turning and shooting off.

* * *

Buttercup rested head on her knees and sighed.

She'd landed in her a room some time ago.

Ace had acted ... off, that morning.

It confused her.

_"Hey Butters, you had your first kiss yet?"_

He asked it nonchalantly, but his expression was alien to his usual superior look.

_"None of your business!"_ she had snapped back, turned away and paused.

Buttercup groaned. She'd contemplated actually telling the jerk the truth; that she hadn't, and never came close to kissing someone.

Why would he ask such a ludicrous question, anyway? Unless he wanted to be her first kiss, which wasn't likely, and Buttercup had already concluded that he had his whores.

She'd seen it, on the visit before, a bimbo with a bad tan walking out of the room.

She wore make-up and a dress. Buttercup thought she was actually a little pretty, which made her angry and sad, and a weird feeling boiled at the pit of her stomach.

It was the first time that she'd actually thought about trying a bit of mascara, or wearing something other than her plain lip balm.

But she wouldn't. If that was what Ace wanted, he wouldn't fucking change her.

It was Buttercup as Buttercup or absolutely nothing.

Still depressed, Buttercup got up and made for her bathroom.

When the showers settling waters caressed her the ever-recurring thought pushed its way forward to the front of her brain.

She wondered if it would always be there, that menacing part of her imagination that left her torn.

Torn and lonely. because her sisters didn't think this way. And Mitch could only understand so much.

Ace knew. Ace would always know. The whole gang would know.

"Fuck it," Buttercup grit her teeth, her hands slapping the wet wall, and growled under breath. "_fuck_."

* * *

_At Mitch's tell dad and you die_

Blossom held the phone away and reread her sisters rude text.

The leader had gotten home, unbeknownst to her, just after Buttercup had, and gotten a text from Buttercup. She'd also gotten one from Bubbles, saying she went out for breakfast.

So she was alone.

Blossom collapsed on her bed. Practicing getting the words out again. "Hey guys, I ran into the Rowdyruff's, they're leaving."

_"You dying doesn't do shit for us. We have no fucking interest in you or your sisters."_

Bricks words refused to leave her.

_"And for some reason, you have something to do with this"_

"And, for some reason, I have something to do with ttheir business with Him."

Blossom didn't know what 'this' was, but she could guess. All he told her was that them leaving, running away, was a secret, and about some connection they shared with Him.

She didn't trust them, at all. Not one bit.

And she had a prickling feeling that that wasn't all that there was to it.

She groaned in frustration. Afterwords, all three boys vanished and it was as if they weren't there.

She didn't mind them leaving. They were just three worries she didn't need. So their whole escape plan didn't bother her, all she had to do was make no contact with Him and they would be gone for good.

"Girls!" Professors warm call halted her train of thought.

Blossom walked out of the room, and on towards her father's voice.

He was sitting on the couch with a cut of coffee in one hand, he smiled in that naturally comforting way that only he could do.

"Morning Professor." Blossom smiled back, sitting down beside him. "Buttercup went to Mitch's and Bubbles went out for breakfast."

"Buttercup went to that boy again?" her fathers brow crinkled slightly.

So much for Buttercups message. Not that such an empty threat bothered her. Buttercup had been acting a little out of sorts - to some extent - she just seemed a little more aggressive, and if it weren't happening Blossom wouldn't have thought it possible.

Perhaps they'd talk.

"Mitch isn't that bad, actually. If you get past the trailer he lives in, his atrocious manners, slang -,"

Professor sent her joking glare.

"He's really not that bad Dad." Blossom defended, honestly. "He's...matured."

Professors eyes widened to the size of saucers.

"If you start-,"

"Don't count on it, Professor." Blossom giggled, though she was serious.

She didn't believe in the Mr. Right nonsense, Blossom had no distinct tastes in men. It wasn't particularly disconcerting, she just had no interest in that sort of relationship.

The Professor sighed, relieved to hear this from at least one of his daughters.

He thoughts trailed to the Rowdyruff Boys. She didn't bother with puppy love or were more important things, after all...

* * *

Grey clouds surrounded Boomer as if telling him that he weren't on the ground anymore.

"Duuude... This is beautiful." Someone mentioned - it was him, so he mentioned... "Why is my voice so...echoey?"

And then there was a random burst of laughter from others.

He sat on a moth-eaten loveseat, accompanied by an immense amount of smoke that shimmered with the bits of sunlight streaks that scattered through the closed curtains.

He didn't often do this, his body wasn't properly taken care of in the least so he avoided destroying it even more. His interest in getting high was just as numbing as he needed to be after Him decided to torture him.

Boomer went crazy, and lost his appetite so he didn't eat. He got high because he just needed to not be Boomer for awhile. End of story, it was just that simple.

He didn't want to further disintegrate into the nothingness that might have overwhelmed him, or become him - not when things were about to be better - by ruining his insides with drugs, which he considered weed to be.

Their plan was to leave. Vanish, possibly never be seen again by Townsville again and vise versa, the tricky part was doing it without having Him know.

But Him already had a hunch, and as he painfully wormed his way into Boomers mind the previous night, the blond knew what the askance would be.

And he needed more than anything to just get baked and forget.

The door opened and Boomer hazily opened his eyes.

Buttercup flew away so hastily that morning, Boomer had the comforting thought of possibly never seeing her pretty face again, although he yearned to see the look in her eyes again.

Boomer blinked, surprised, but unperturbed in his actions, he took the joint out of his mouth and exhaled the intoxicating fumes.

_What would a superhero be doing in a villian's lair?_

"'Sup Butters?" asked Ace, his voice also tinted with surprise.

Buttercup, then, did something forever engraved into his memory; she smiled.

_Apparently, flirting._

And in his state of mind, it was the most angelic thing to ever grace her features, completely wasted on Ace.

It lasted a total of four seconds before she caught wind that someone was staring at her, and she turned to face him.

The expression she had was gone as if a light had turned off, and a frown marred her features.

"What's he doing here?" Her tone was slightly less raspy, as her voice always was. He never realized how much of a female she was.

He only saw her on the battlefield before, and that was some time ago, now she was much more... womanly.

His eyes traveled along her jaw, where her dark, shiny, hair brushed her skin, and then downwards, along the sleeve of her modest navy top.

"He'ssss alwayssss come here," Snake shrugged. Grubber nodded.

Buttercup continued to frown.

"Ey, señorita, calm down, he won't hurt nobody,' Archiro intervened.

"Yeah, Butters, he's neutral." It seemed Ace's comment worked best, and it tore her gaze away from Boomer.

He frowned. Her expression softened slightly when Ace spoke.

Buttercup turned to face Boomer, looking him once over and then proceeded into the make-shift house, closing the door behind her. When she came to, she sat next to him.

His heart jolted looked at her confusedly before realizing there weren't any open seats left.

She sat far away, her expression was unreadable.

She looked uncomfortable, from what her stiff posture showed. He wasn't far from it himself, but did she have to treat him like a bad odor?

Boomer blinked.

"What?" She bit out, catching him staring again, and returning the favor with an untrusting glare.

She didn't look at him the way she did earlier, this look was more fierce.

He blinked again, standing up and dropping the joint so he could step on it - ignoring Ace's protests about the new carpet.

He walked out, almost flinching when he heard Buttercup's sigh of relief.

* * *

Slowly, slim fingers began to twitch.

He just left her like that.

She passed out somewhere along the lines, and the sun was beginning to set.

Bubbles' silent tears kept rolling down her cheeks. The chemical X was taking longer to work than usual.

She'd regained feeling I'm her legs and arms, and her fingers were coming to, just at an unreasonably long amount of time.

She must've been hurt pretty badly for it to take this long.

Butch just left her like that.

Feeling... Tainted. No one had ever hurt her like that, not Boomer, never Boomer. But Butch actually really hurt her.

And just as she was gaining control of her body again, she was feeling the pain and ache of what Butch had done to her.

She's felt and extraordinary amount of fear for him in less than ten minutes of being with him.

Bubbles hiccoughed and her finger twitched again.

She was on her back, conveniently.

He made her scared, something she hadn't been awhile.

She wondered if this was what her perfect world was, back on cloud nine.

This was what she wanted.

To be tainted in some way.

He was more muscular than he used to be, the way he looked at her; like he enjoyed it.

The sick bastard probably did. She was in pain, and she could feel her own blood coating her neck, staining her clothes, and dried tears at the corner of her eyes.

She felt such immense pain when her bones snapped back into place...

Feeling that she could swallow again, she didn't, for fear of how it could hurt.

She breathed in and swallowed in defiance to her cowardly thoughts.

But her healing hadn't finished, so she coughed up a warm, metallic-tasting liquid.

It drizzled down her cheeks, behind her ear.

It _burnt_.

It hurt.

She refused to scream. The pain was beginning to numb, slowly beginning to dissolve into a memory...

The mind-numbing crack of her neck made her give in - Bubbles screamed.

* * *

The blood-curdling sound could be heard miles away.

The female notes, high-pitched and in pain, was ten times louder to anyone with super hearing, and Brick heard it just outside of Townsville.

He didn't know how he knew but he just fucking knew that it had to be one of his idiot brothers.

And since one was in no physical state to make anyone scream like a banshee, it had to be the brute.

Brick was absolutely no stranger to Butch's infatuation with causing things pain, or just pain. The sick fuck got off on it.

Brick used it to his advantage for years and Butch was obedient. Like a wolf drooling for bloody meat, but waiting for the signal to tear it apart.

Butch's heightened senses and feelings - courtesy of Him - increased his animalistic side a hundredfold.

"Shit," Brick cursed under his breath.

He gained speed, the apartment wasn't too far away.

When he arrived he just went into the hole Blossom caused earlier on. Damn Puff...

"What the hell did you do?" Brick shouted into the apartment, Butch sauntered put of his room, Boomer came out of his room too.

"You heard it too?" It was Boomer.

"How could you not?" Butch was grinning.

He seemed quite proud. Brick's brow twitched.

"I don't repeat myself, Butch."

"She couldn't take a hit," Butch rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

The twitching didn't end.

"You fucking retard!" Brick roared, grabbing Butch's collar and sending him flying to the wall. "Do you know what you've fucking done?"

"Whoa, Brick..." Boomer was inching toward the leader.

"Don't fucking 'Whoa Brick' me!" He turned back to Butch, who was flaring back defiantly. "You fuck, the whole city heard that!"

Butch smirked for half a second before regaining his composure.

"I know..."

"If Blossom fucking tells-," Brick seethed

"We should've killed her already." Butch sneered back.

Brick was grabbing Butch's collar again

"Don't you get it? He wants her to die, and if he wants it and we do it we're strengthening the bond." He let go of Butch.

Brick grit his teeth and collapsed on the couch.

"What do we do now?" Boomer asked, sending Butch disapproving glares. Butch flashed him a rude hand gesture.

"We..." Brick paused. "We can't do anything. We wait."

* * *

Blossom had been searching for Bubbles for an hour before she heard it. The cry made her mouth dry and her heart pound.

"Bubbles!" She shouted, darting to where the sound came from.

She was in the forest behind the city, Blossom gathered, as she zoomed though the trees.

Bubbles didn't make another sound, but Blossom already saw, a few small trees were bent in an unnatural way, and the path of dismembered trees continued.

Bubbles was laying on the ground. Blossom vaguely felt a sense of déjà vu upon seeing it.

"Bubbles..." She whispered, flying next to her sister.

The worry and panic that emerged in her chest tightened and the sight brought a burning sensation behind her eyes.

She hovered her finger under Bubbles nose, the soft breath of her sister did nothing to soothe her uneven breathing.

The blood staining Bubbles white tank top stared her, she didn't think rationally, and the haze of pressure to help settled firmly on her shoulders.

Blossom hurriedly picked Bubbles up, but her movement were too panicked and she almost dropped her twice.

_Please be fine, Bubbles..._

* * *

Instinct was a funny word, and it only became a word, to Buttercup at least. Practiced in the art of ignorance, the ear-splitting cry didn't faze her too much.

Just as, a few months ago, had she not been scolded by Ace to control her temper ("and all the other hormones") she wouldn't have calmed down, if only slightly.

Though, it forced her to become something she generally wasn't, she didn't know it.

She pretended to be fine with Boomers apparently frequent visits to their 'house', to save face. Because Boomer hadn't tried anything in years she wasn't as hostile as she would've been two years ago, and Ace was fine was with it.

It helped to some extent that he had just left.

But, at the hospital, she thought that maybe should approach her instinctual side again.

She was pissed.

Pissed that she ignored the scream, that a _text_ from Blossom had alerted her of this.

She stared at Bubbles face, coated in the white light that spread throughout the whole building.

She had a neck brace on. And her short shoulder-length hair was released from her pigtail.

Blossom sat on a chair next her, biting her lip and looking at nothing.

"What...?" But her voice broke, so Buttercup stopped.

"I..." Blossom stared at Buttercup, looking suspiciously guilty. "I don't know... Sh-she was unconscious when..."

Buttercup nodded.

"I don't think it was Mojo." She stated softly.

Blossom looked away, playing with her fingers. Buttercup raised a brow, but continued.

"Fuzzy would do that when he goes all batshit, I mean that even scares me sometimes-"

"I don't think he did it." Blossom deadpanned.

Professor had fallen asleep, and it was quite late by now. The doctors had allowed them to stay after visiting hours, but not too long.

Blossom sniffed lightly.

"What do you think we'll do?" asked Buttercup seriously.

Blossoms head snapped up, a startled expression on her face.

"About what?"

"Bubbles. I mean, sure I wanna beat the guy to Jupiter, but we have no idea _who_ did this. And... fighting crime..." She trailed off.

"Buttercup I - fighting crime?" Blossom gave her a confused look.

She stared back. The time rolled by. The confused look on her sisters face made her backtrack.

"Never mind ... what about Bubbles?"

"We'll ... see." And Blossom frowned seriously when she said this so Buttercup believed her and dropped the conversation.

She stared at Bubbles.

Bad things were happening. They'd started quite some time ago. She could feel it, a foreboding sense, and something terrible would go wrong...

* * *

Boomer had been staring at him for a total of three minutes, and drove him to scowling back, eventually.

"What?" He bit out.

"Butch is gone..."

Brick jerked his head back to the floor, trying his damnedest to stay calm - lord help him - it wasn't working.

His temper had increased with every passing second, waiting for Blossom, or Him - anyone to just punish them, like always.

The daily grind had become a nuisance, as his dull and dark mind awaited a life that was less of a hindrance.

The long overdue visit from his counterpart had finally come, but she didn't burst in, or behave like a maniac. She flew in, through the hole shed made herself just hours before, calm and collected.

That all disappeared once she looked at him, with the most venomous glare he'd think she could ever make. He was slightly taken aback by it, but nowhere near the point of showing it physically.

"What did you do?" She narrowed her eyes at him.

"You're really bossy." He said, with an air of ignorance.

He was walking on thin ice and he knew it. She was now like a pair of scissors to them; she could either cut the string connecting them to Him, or the one that tied them to their only hope.

He shouldn't be playing with someone that held so much power over him, he was probably the only one between his brother a who fully understood that.

But, fuck, if he could pull himself together for this...he was so damn tired of someone else holding his future in their hands. It was depressing and annoying.

Blossom was not amused.

"You nearly killed my sister." She said slowly, each syllable hurt her, she let her mask slip, and she looked just as tired as he.

He scowled, because for some extremely horrible, unfathomable reason that little show of emotion on her part interested him.

"No, I didn't." He said, leaning back on the couch.

She looked annoyed, and hurt, and fatigued beyond her years. She stared at him, looking at him as if he were an omen. Her lower lip trembled, and he saw façade gently break away, and she sank to the floor with it. He body wracked and trembled with unheard wails.

She cried into her hands.

And Brick stared at her, fascinated, yet not able care. So he just watched her cry.

She looked so vulnerable that he realized, with a smirk, that he was not at her mercy as much as she was to something he knew nothing of.


End file.
